


but i belong to all of your mysteries

by haloud



Category: Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 12:05:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9384254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloud/pseuds/haloud
Summary: After the Liberation, Ares and Seliph spend one last night in celebration before Ares must leave for Agustria.





	

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from Dance in the Graveyards by Delta Rae

Days and weeks of war make it impossible to be unguarded, even late at night when the world is quiet.  There’s little time to halt their march; the castles they conquer are home for only a handful of nights before they’re out on the road again.  A scarce few nights have seen Seliph creeping into Ares’s room to fall into his bed, but even those nights see their sleep interrupted by the necessity of patrols and watches.  Ares never comes to Seliph’s chambers; if Shanan or Oifey or half a dozen others discovered him there in the morning he’s not sure he’d survive it.  And yet, somehow, over nearly eighteen months of campaigning, Ares and Seliph have grown closer than ever thought possible.

But now the war is over.

Seliph nestles against him, warm and pliant and glowing, and it’s more than Ares had ever thought he could expect or deserve.  Large sections of Castle Belhalla were gutted long ago by some whim of Prince Julius, but Seliph had been so leery of going anywhere near the royal chambers, and—after all—all they require tonight is a mattress and two bodies curled together beneath cloaks.  Ares skims his thumb again and again over the curve of Seliph’s bare shoulder, a nervous, repetitive motion that he can’t seem to stop—like the moment his fingers leave the soft give of his skin he’ll be gone and Ares will be left stiff and cold and alone.

“You’re so deep in thought, Ares,” he whispers.  His hand comes up and brushes across Ares’s cheek, then comes across again, pressing a little harder, stroking the delicate skin beneath his eye.  Seliph’s stare is always so intense, and Ares almost quails before it now.  Is this how Ishtore had felt, or Blume, or the Emperor himself?  Stripped down and seen through?  Not even the sweet smile on his lips, not even Ares’s intimate familiarity with every soft feature of his flushing face, none of these things lessen the piercing clarity of those eyes.  Ares has to stop himself from flinching, pulling away in fear to protect some of his own shadows.

“What are you thinking of so solemnly, tonight of all nights?” Seliph asks, but before Ares can answer, his words are swallowed by a kiss.  His train of thought flits away like so much smoke as he sinks back into the bed, Seliph sliding closer until he’s blanketing Ares’s chest.  He can feel their hearts slotted together.  Blue hair falls around his face in curtains, blocking out the candlelight.  By the time Seliph pulls back slightly, Ares feels like he’s swallowed a star.

“I’m so selfish,” Ares murmurs against Seliph’s mouth.  He hums a question back, so Ares continues, “Keeping you all to myself when there are so many who would pay anything for even one glimpse of you, today of all days.”

“I’ll pay anything to keep your selfishness well-honed, then.”

“What’s this, then?”

“If you are selfish, then stay selfish.  I’ll never let you be satisfied if satisfaction closes your arms to me and leaves me to the hands of courtiers.”  Seliph’s tone stays teasing, but his hand curls over Ares’s pectoral, nails digging in just slightly.  His eyes shine too brightly in the candlelight.

_ Then order me to stay,  _ Ares doesn’t say.  The duty that peacetime demands of them, the lives their birthrights—so long delayed—demand they lead; it’s the one thing Ares cannot voice, not even in jest, the one question he cannot ask.   _ King Seliph, won’t you order me to stay? _

In the closest, most breathless moments, it’s the only thing Ares has ever desired.  It’s  _ wrong,  _ though, and would only lead to ruin; no matter how painful the split, the half of Ares containing his soul will only ever fall on the road back to home and duty.  And yet...

“You’re right, milord,” Ares says.  His hands rest lightly over Seliph’s hips, holding him steady while Ares pulls himself up to nestle more upright back against the pillows.  They relax back in among the nest they’ve created of all the most blanket-like objects they could locate.  “Selfishness does have its place.”  Ares settles Seliph in his lap and, without a moment’s notice, dives in to scrape his teeth against his lover’s throat.

Seliph laughs breathlessly and tips his head back, joyful vibrations shaking up from his lungs and back through Ares’s bones.  “Mm, that tickles,” he says, throwing a hand back to pet at Ares’s hair. 

“Twelve gods, Seliph,” Ares can’t help but laugh in return, hooking his chin over Seliph’s shoulder.  His whole body glows inside and out, almost unbearably warm everywhere they touch, which is, increasingly,  _ everywhere.  _  Ares’s skin tingles.  Seliph’s hair tickles Ares’s bare chest with every slight movement.  Ares hooks his sword arm around Seliph’s middle and squeezes tight, tipping his face back to hide in the crook of the new king’s neck.

They are not that different in size.  Ares has broader shoulders, to be sure, and a few inches on Seliph, but the difference is small enough for their eyes to meet with little awkwardness between them.  But in moments like this, the small difference seems incredibly vast—like Seliph is small enough, like Ares is large and clumsy enough, to make them different creatures altogether.  Ares’s grip slackens slightly, distracted by his thoughts.

Scion of Light.  The name has been whispered, scorned, worshipped.  Ares presses the sun itself to his chest and tries to drown it down to earth.  Euphoria and anxiety have been at war within him ever since Seliph threw wide Belhalla’s gates.  To be free of Loptyr’s dark shadow over all Jugdral, to see the lands of his birth for the first time since he was a babe—Seliph and Princess Julia have made it all possible, not just for Ares but for every citizen.  It’s not a title Seliph ever desired for himself, though, not the way Ares relished in every hushed voice calling him the Black Knight with the demon blade.  Yet another difference separating them.

“Ares.”

Fingers grip his jaw, starting gentle but quickly growing firm, forcing Ares to turn his head.  Seliph holds his eyes.  “I want you to look at me.  Spend the night with me; hold me.  Your heavy thoughts can wait—wait until…until you’re on the road back to Nordion—to Agusty.”

A homecoming but not a homecoming.  Seliph knows the feeling well—he can’t escape it here in Belhalla, when his heart remembers Tirnanog, when his blood remembers Chalphy.  The note of sorrow in his voice makes Ares turn his head to kiss Seliph’s palm.  He smiles into that warm, calloused skin and murmurs his agreement.  The heavy thoughts can wait.  The blistering, desperate longing the dark cannot quash for the light will fade and fade once Ares is back in his black armor, miles and miles down the dusty road to Agustria.

Maybe.  Hopefully.  But the heavy thoughts can wait. 

Seliph throws his arms around Ares’s neck and leans in for another searing kiss.  Ares winds his fingers through his hair, holding on, holding tight to his lover and himself.

 

**Author's Note:**

> why. why do i ship these two. h e l p 
> 
> fire emblem is happening over at haloud.tumblr.com


End file.
